


Day 113

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [113]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [113]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257
Kudos: 1





	Day 113

It was just past midnight when Samson returned to Darktown with the captain of the guard in tow. Aveline had assembled an impressive team for this fight. Varric Tethras, The Healer of Darktown, The Champion of Kirkwall, a few guards including Melindra (who had been investigating some disappearances before realizing they were magic-related) and an elven woman whose name Samson had already forgotten. The team met up with Paxley, who had been watching the area where the apostates were hiding for hours. If there was one thing templars were good at, it was standing in one place for a long time, doing absolutely nothing.

Aveline and the Champion wanted to kick down some doors and start crushing some heads but Samson had insisted on a slightly different approach. Back when he had been a proper templar he had planned his share of battles and he knew the dangers of charging an entrenched position. He had a plan he liked to call, the swooping dragon. You started your attack light, just enough to make your enemy bring out their best weapons, and then you swooped in like a dragon to take out that weapon.

In this plan, Hawke was clearly their side’s dragon. In all his years, Samson had never seen a more powerful mage, he pitied the templar who eventually tried to bring him in. And it would happen, Meredith’s pride would allow for nothing else.

Paxley reported that no one had left the area during the time he had been on watch and Anders confirmed that there were no secret tunnels out of this area. Although there was no reason to suspect the apostate would be entirely truthful when talking to templars.

There was no use waiting around, the longer a mage had to prepare the more difficult the fight would be. Paxley and Aveline led the advance with Samson and the guards close behind. They still had not found the entrance to the hideout, but according to the locals, this street was a dead end.

“Umm...” Varric called out to the group from the rear and everyone turned. The dwarf was pointing to what looked like an ordinary section of wall but, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a secret door. Aveline and Paxley took up positions on either side while Varric fiddled with the lock.

“On my count,” Aveline said. Samson could see that Paxley chafed at having to take orders from a guard, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. “Three, two ONE!”

Varric flung open the door and rolled out of the way as the warriors charged into the room. By the time Samson was inside everything was chaos. There were spells flying every which way, Paxley was chanting the litany of Adralla to save off mind control and Aveline had pinned a woman against the wall. There were a number of shades attacking the guards, but it seemed like they had it well enough under control so Samson didn’t bother to get involved. Insted, he searched the field for the mage’s secret weapon.

He spied an unarmed thrall heading for a staircase that led to a cellar or basement and gave chase. The red-haired man rushed to the edge of a pentagram where a small child was being held. Samson tried to reach the man before he could do anything but he was too slow. The thrall overturned the candles at one end of the pentagram. Immediately there was a sound like a thunderclap and Smason’s ears popped. The child surged from the pentagram and started to twist and change as she did. Horn sprouted from her head and her body ripped apart as it grew larger than an ogre.

Samson took a few stumbling steps back as the creature made for him. He got his shield up just in time to take a swipe from one of the creature's massive claws. Samson was tossed bodily across the room, and collided with the thrall who was frantically gathering magical artifacts into a satchel. The thrall squirmed out from under the ex-templar but otherwise ignored him as it continued to gather anything small enough to fit in its bag. Samson took a moment to snatch a vial of lyrium before following the pride demon up the stairs.

“Champion,” he called out. “Now is the time for swooping!”

Samson reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Melindra’s head crushed by the demon. Aveline drove a sword into the mage’s throat before rushing over to shield her remaining guards from harm. That was when the Champion appeared.

He practically flew through the air to drive the blade of his staff into the demon's chest. The steel didn’t do much to slow the creature down but Hawk pumped as much fire and ice into the monster’s body as he could.

The demon roared in pain and clamped it’s teeth down over the Champion’s torso. Like a wolf with a hare, it shook its head back and forth violently before tossing Hawke across the room. He splattered against the wall a bloody mess but was almost completely healed by the time his feet touched the ground.

Samson looked over to see Anders, the source of the healing, charging into the room after the Champion. Pride demons were the cleverest of all fade creatures and this one decided to focus its attack on the healer. From thin air it conjured two whips made from electricity and brought them down on Anders. The smell of cooked flesh and burning hair filled the room, but no sooner had the mage fallen then he returned to his feet again. This time it was the Champion who pulsed with healing light.

The demon roared in frustration, but the inconvenience only served to motivate it further. Samson could feel it drawing great quantities of magic from the fade into a swirling vortex of spirit energy that filled the room. Samson knew anyone caught inside would be paralized as their soul was torn from their body. The best defence was to flee the immediate area but the room was too small for that. Samson rushed to Paxley’s side and the two templars set their will against that of the demon, dispelling the magic before the spell could be completed. Somewhere behind them the Demon had summoned more shaded but Aveline and her guards were holding their own against them.

Hawke and Anders both took a moment to down more lyrium then Samson saw in an average week. They both casually tossed their vials aside and Samson was horrified to see that they still contained a bit of liquid inside. What an extravagant lifestyle the Champion led that he could so casually waste lyrium.

Samson dove for the discarded vials, managing to catch one before it shattered.

The Demon tried to use the lull in the fight to press the attack but a barrage of crossbow bolts lodged themselves in the creature's eyes. It reared back and roared in pain. Vines broke through the floor to the surprise of both Samson and the demon. They wrapped themselves around the creature's arms holding it in place while Anders and Hawke blasted it with more magical attacks.

At the door, Varric and the elf tossed flasks at the creature. These exploded on impact coating the creature in sticky antivan fire. Smason figured the best thing for him to do in this situation was not get in anybody’s way and he backed up against the while. Paxley on the other hand, charged forwards, and hacked at the creature's legs. Samson didn’t think demons had things like hamstrings but whatever Paxley cut it dropped the demon to its knees. More vines started constricting the monster though Samson couldn’t tell whether Hawke or Anders were controlling them.

“Begone demon! Torment these mortals no longer,” Anders roared and pierced the creature with giant shards of ice. Hawk made a decisive end to the fight by flash boiling the ice, ripping the demon to shreds from the force. The guards had, by now, dealt with the shades and everyone took a few moments to catch their breath.

“Was that all of them then?” Aveline asked. Paxley looked around the mess of a room thoughtfully. He crouched down next to the mage's body, pulling out the likeness Greta had drawn.

“This looks like her,” he said. “But this doesn't tell us if any of the templars were helping her stay hidden. We should look around for more evidence.” Samson doubted Paxley would find what he was looking for. That boy had a talent for inventing conspiracy where there was none. Samson would have to remember that for the future. 

“Champion! Am I ever glad to see you.” Everyone turned to see the red haired thrall making his way up the stairs. His satchel was practically bulging but he handled it with a degree of carelessness that made Damson think he didn’t know the value of the contents.

“Jansen?” Hawke stammered.

“You must be the luckiest bastard in all of Thedas I swear,” Varric laughed. “You should consider a career as a professional diamondback player.”

“What do you have there Jansen?” Hawke asked, indicating the satchel.

“I don’t rightly know,” Jansen said. “The last thing I was told was to fill it with everything from downstairs that I could.”

“Come back to my clinic,” Anders said. “Your wife and son are there waiting for you. We can have a proper look through the satchel and maybe we could buy some of your salvage off of you. Help get you back on your feet and such.”

Jansen nodded and let Anders and Hawke lead him outside. Varric and the elf followed close behind.

“We’ll stay behind and help you search the place,” Aveline said. Samson didn’t see much point but as long as Paxley was providing hum with the blue stuff Samson was more than willing to indulge his curiosity… or paranoia.


End file.
